He Must've Known You'd Always Come Back
by ApocalypsePony316
Summary: Ron's point of view after he storms out of the tent on the riverbank. How does he cope with the knowledge that he's let them...her...down? SPOILERS FOR TDH Rating bc of mild language, and I'm paranoid. Merlin's pants! Lucky number 7! COMPLETE
1. Leaving

He Must've Known You'd Always Come Back

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of his mates. If so, the series would never have ended.

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"Go home then."

It was at that moment that I realized it…I no longer knew my best friend. His emerald eyes were glittering dangerously, and his mouth was set in an angry line. If this had happened at any other time, the sight of him would have dragged me back into my senses. As it was, it now only fueled the furious fire inside my chest.

"Yeah, maybe I will!" I shouted, taking a few steps toward him. I had about a head on him and probably a few pounds, but he didn't back away; he merely stood there, arms crossed, and took the assault. "Didn't you hear what they said about my sister? What about the rest of my family, 'the Weasleys don't need another kid injured,' did you hear that?"

"Yeah, I…"

"Not bothered what it meant, though?"

It's quite likely that I didn't have the slightest bloody idea what I was saying. After all, if anyone cared about Ginny more than her family, it was Harry. No doubt about that one. But my brain had shut down, disconnected from my mouth, which took on a mind of its own. I didn't even feel ashamed when I saw the shock flit across Harry's face.

"Ron!" Hermione was there, forcing her way between us, speaking for the first time in what seemed like forever. My heart softened for the slightest of moments as I took in her stricken face, then hardened into ice as she continued. "I don't think it means anything new has happened, anything we don't know about; think, Ron. Bill's already scarred, plenty of people know must have seen that George has lost an ear by now, and you're supposed to be on your deathbed with spattergroit, I'm sure that's all he meant…"

"Oh, you're sure, are you? Right then, well, I won't bother myself about them," if I had paid the smallest bit of attention to what she was saying, maybe I would have heard the fear…and also, the hope…in her voice. Maybe I could have accepted her reassurance. But unfortunately, all I could hear were blind attempts at excuses. "It's all right for you two, isn't it, with your parents safely out of the way..."

Hermione gave an almost inaudible gasp and her eyes misted over. I felt my teeth close onto my tongue. Here she was, struggling with the knowledge that her parents didn't have the tiniest idea who she was, that she even existed…and in wiping their memories, she had brought my family closer, as the only ones she had left. Didn't I realize that the thought of them in danger hurt her almost as badly as it did me?

"My parents are _dead!" _Harry shouted, looking angrier and more horrible than I'd ever seen him. He had every right to be, of course…but once again, I took all leave of my natural senses as I bellowed back, "And mine could be going the same way!"

"Then GO! Go back to them so Mummy'll be able to feed you up and…" furious, I made a sudden movement, not sure what I was going to do once I'd reached him…

I heard Hermione's voice, but the blood boiling in my ears prevented me from hearing what she said; however, the next moment a huge invisible shield erected itself between me and Harry. I took a step back, glaring at him, and he did the same. Tension crackled in the air like electricity, and all I could feel was hate. No shame, no guilt, no remorse. Hate. At Harry, my best friend since our first year.

"Leave the Horcrux," he spat. His tone of voice plainly suggested that he wanted nothing more than for me to leave, that he was giving me heartfelt permission to abandon them, after all the preparation we'd had for this so-called adventure…all he wanted or needed was the damn locket. He cared for nothing else.

As for me? Ha! I couldn't wait to be rid of the bloody thing, and almost removed my neck along with the chain as I wrenched it off and slung it into the nearest chair. All I wanted was to leave, to get back home and check on my family, and to forget I ever knew anything of the Boy Who Lived…

"What are you doing?" I shot at Hermione, not even fully aware why I sounded so bitter. She, after all, had done nothing…nothing, except cause me to worry at least twenty three and a half hours out of every day.

"What do you mean?" her eyes were as wide as Galleons, pleading with me not to throw onto her what she knew was coming…

"Are you staying, or what?"

"I…" she paused, looking thoroughly torn. At any other point in the past four years, I'd have been quite delighted at the fact that she cared enough to get upset at my departure. Now, however, I would only be happy with one answer…

"Yes…yes, I'm staying." And that wasn't it. "Ron, we said we'd go with Harry, we said we'd help…" and at that point, I didn't hear the anguish or heartbreak in her voice, or see the begging in her gorgeous chocolate eyes. All I heard was her choice. And…surprise…it wasn't me.

"I get it. You choose him."

With the truthfulness of my words ringing in my ears, I spun around and stormed off into the rainy night, not even deterred by her desperate cry of, "Ron, no! Please! Come back!" but even with all that, she didn't come after me…why didn't she run after me? Did the last few months mean nothing to her, as they'd meant so very much to me? Her heartbroken face swam before my eyes, and I picked up the pace, running as hard as I could through the still forest.

Once I'd slowed down, nursing the stitch in my side, I once again felt anger surge through my body. Whether it was at them, or myself, I wasn't quite sure. "But it's true," I muttered aloud, clenching my fists so hard my knuckles turned white. My family could be in serious danger…hell, they were certainly in serious danger, we all were. Didn't either of them realize this? Didn't they give a damn? And almost instantly, the memory of Hermione's hand gripping my arm as we'd both collapsed onto the shabby old couch at Grimmauld Place flooded into my brain, and her voice echoed in my ears, "They're all right!" she'd been just as scared as I had been…

I shook the ghost of her voice out of my head, and paced. There was nothing left for it; after that pathetic bit of pigheadedness, there was no way I could just march back into the tent and announce I'd changed my mind. Especially when neither of them had come after me…

As if someone else were controlling my actions, I stopped dead in my tracks and focused all my energy on a spot of forest a few miles from my house. If it was over, if I'd blown my chance at helping my best friend, then perhaps home was the only answer.

My heart was currently lodged in my throat, and for a moment I was incapable of breathing…but then as I stepped into the horrible feeling of compression and blackness, I heard it.

"Ron! Ron, please come back! I'm sorry…I'm so sorry! Please!" her calls were racked with sobs, and her gasping breaths sounded as though she'd been running for hours, although it couldn't have been more than a few minutes.

"Hermione?" but my voice was lost as the darkness swooped over me, slamming my lungs against my ribcage...

When I once again burst forth into fresh, cold air, she was gone…miles away, impossible for me to protect.


	2. Captured

_Damn it all to hell! _How could I have not thought about this before? Did I really believe it was going to be that easy to just get up and abandon my best friend and the girl I loved?

Oh yes…it just so happened that I wasn't as stupid as the impression I tended to give off. I was fully aware that I was in love with Hermione, and had been ever since she'd collapsed into my arms at the end of our third year, sobbing her heart out over the apparent death of my rat, Scabbers. I'd only admitted it to myself recently, when she'd pulled a similar act and sobbed against my shoulder at Dumbledore's funeral, as I'd cradled her head and stroked her curly hair.

And now here I was, miles away as she cried yet again…only this time, instead of being there to comfort her, I was the sole reason of it. I couldn't have felt like a bigger, more pathetic fool if I'd tried. Dignity be damned, I was heading right back there and apologizing on bended knee, to both of them if necessary, although I could really do without the look of revolt on Harry's face that I was sure would be there.

But I felt weak and dizzy…the lack of food, added together with stress and the general unpleasant experience of Apparation had taken a serious toll on my body. I glanced around; I had no idea where I was, but then again, I rarely did these days. Was it possible that I was anywhere near my house? Would I be able to grab a bite to eat…also some information…from my family before going back?

I had only walked for a few minutes when my plan began spiraling down the drain. My family was being watched. I knew that; I'd known it ever since my father's Patronus had appeared to us in London. Surely they were still under a watchful eye…plus, how would they react when they realized what I'd done? I'd given up everything to go along with Harry and Hermione…and here I was, popping up on the doorstep without them?

I sighed; it was no good. With a heavy heart, I turned around, intending to leave from the exact spot I'd appeared in…and that's when I heard it.

"'Ell…lookie 'hat we got 'ere, boys."

My body stiffened, and instinct made me reach for my wand. I hadn't even reached my pocket when there was a deep cry of "_Expelliarmus!_" and my wand soared away from my outstretched fingertips and into the hands of a heavyset, ragged wizard.

"Now, 'e'll be havin' no more o' that," he said evilly, a wicked smile creasing his scarred, whiskery face. At almost the same time, I felt my arms being wrenched behind my back, and a leathery hand close over my mouth.

I closed my eyes, feeling panic, hot and metallic like lead, rising in my throat. So this was how it was going to end…cornered like the rat I had once thought of as a pet and friend had been, so many years ago. Only I couldn't see a way out…I had the feeling that these particular blokes wouldn't be as lenient with my life as Harry had been with Peter's…

The thought of Harry…and what our last words had been…made my skin crawl. And then Hermione…what would she think when she realized that I wasn't coming back, that I'd left her once and for all…?

And as her face swam clearly in front of me, I found myself calming down…this was no time to lose my mind, as I had so expertly done so many times that day. I had to get myself under control and figure out what to do.

So I opened my eyes.

There were five of them, all very large and muscular, with ragged, scratched faces and ripped robes. But none of the faces or voices were familiar, and none of them were masked. _They're not Death Eaters. _I felt myself sag at the thought. So they weren't Death Eaters…but they certainly were no mates of mine, I could tell that much.

I took the ringleader to be the one who'd Disarmed me. He was the largest and the burliest of the bunch, and he was still wearing a dilapidated smile, very reminiscent of Mad-Eye Moody's…the thought of him made me grimace, unseen behind the rough hand holding me.

"So…are 'e gonna have this problem ag'n? You gon' be good?" he was staring at me hard through icy gray eyes. I forced myself to stay calm and slowly nodded my head several times. He gave me a smirk and nodded at the man holding me. The hand came away from my mouth, and instead brought the point of a wand to the side of my face.

The plan had been to keep my mouth shut and listen until I had learned what was going on…however, in a way truly unique to me, I managed to blow that plan before I even started it.

"Who are you?" I had spit out the question before I even realized I'd said it.

One of the other wizards grinned. "Ah, bless 'im. So curious, init they? We should be askin' yeh the same, little one."

A third one stepped up, looking much more grim and serious than the rest. He frowned deeply, gave me a sweeping look, and said hollowly, "He looks school-aged. Whatcha doing out here alone, eh?" he directed at me. "What's your name?"

I was doing some very fast thinking. Something was telling me they were not simply asking so they could cart me back off to my parents house or Hogwarts. The serious-faced one that was staring at me had haunting black eyes…sort of like Snape's. He was also sporting a large amount of pimples, no matter his age…

"Stan Shunpike," I blurted out the first name to come to mind.

Apparently they knew something that I didn't, because the circle immediately stiffened; the wizard holding me grunted and shifted uncomfortably.

The bloke holding my wand pushed his way through and leaned close to me, squinting. "Are yeh now?" he whispered. "Are yeh quite sure bout that, Stan?"

He didn't believe me, any idiot could see that. But it was a bit late to be changing my story now. So I worked my face into what I thought an indignant expression. "Do you think I'd not know meh own name?"

He bent even closer, eyes glinting strangely, "Work for tha Dark Lord, do yeh?"

I knew I was in trouble now. I had to work this perfectly if there was any chance at all of coming out of this unscathed. "Dark Lord?" I forced myself to look horrified. "'Choo off your 'ead? Me, work for 'im!"

There was a moment's silence, and then the final wizard that had yet to speak grunted, "Imperioused. Confunded, perhaps."

Passing my wand from hand to hand, the largest wizard gave him an appraising look. "Yeh think? Yeh 'anna know 'hat I think? I think 'e got us a runna'. Tryin' ta hide some _Muggle-blood_, eh Stan?"

"An' are you really willin' to risk cartin one o' He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's servants off ta tha Ministry?"

They were now staring at each other rather than me, as were the other two blokes. I could feel the hand gripping my arm slack slightly.

"I'm thinking 'e ain't no servant. 'Hat 'e be doin' way out here, then? I say I'm the bloke in charge, an' yeh'll do 'ell to listen to me!"

All eyes were fixed on the two arguing men. It was now or never; the wand pointed at my face had drooped a quarter of an inch. But if this didn't work, I was dead...it was only the image of Harry, wandless in a deserted graveyard and surrounded by Voldemort and his Death Eaters that gave me the courage to force every ouch of strength I had into my elbow, and to force that elbow into the bastard's stomach...

They turned at his howl of pain, ready to attack...but before they could I had raised the wand that I didn't even remember grabbing and roared, "_Expelliarmus!" _

Wands soared in all directions, but it was mine...the one I had been concentrating so hard on...that came zooming into my hand. As soon as I felt my fingers enclose the rough wood, I cast my mind onto a fleeting image of the riverbank in Wales and turned on the spot.


	3. Remember

Something had gone wrong; I knew this the second I had opened my eyes. I was in a dark, secluded section of trees, and even though I knew I was no longer in the wood I'd been attacked, I was nowhere near our tent. Well, it was understandable...my mind had been rather full at the time. As I made to stand up, I felt it: the strange sensation of loss I'd felt so many times before. Terror clouded my vision as I inspected my body, looking for any missing limbs. I was certain I'd Splinched myself, but I couldn't find any damage. It was only when I noticed a tenderness in my fingers that I realized two of my nails were missing. Relief flooded me...it wasn't bad, and in any case, Hermione could put it right for me. If I ever found them.

I wasn't going to risk Apparating again unless absolutely necessary, so I gathered what little strength I had left and started walking. The night closed in around me, and my breath hung in frosty clouds in front of me. I didn't have my rucksack, sleeping bag, or anything else I needed to camp out, so I didn't sleep that night, but instead kept on walking through the heavy downfall.

I had been straining my eyes for the sun for so long that when it finally crept over the horizon it seemed a mirage. The rain slacked off to a miserable drizzle, and I could hear the river sloshing against the bank. I was here...I had to be.

Apologies and excuses chased themselves around my mind; I had a feeling that Harry, at least, would end up forgiving me. After all, this was hardly any worse than my display of idiocy during the Triwizard Tournament our fourth year. But what about Hermione? Could she ever forgive the fact that I'd left her, just walked away when she was so desperately calling after me?

My breath caught in my throat as I stopped on the riverbank. This was it. I'd recognized the closely crowded group of trees that I'd squeezed through the previous night. The tent had to be around here somewhere...or had they already left?

I covered the whole riverbank and forest at least three times, calling out their names. I was sure that since I'd helped place the magical concealments on our camp that I'd be able to find it again. But there was nothing here...they had moved on, unable to waste time lingering around for me to show up. Maybe they thought I'd really ran out...

_That's because you did run out, you miserable git! _I scolded myself as I sank down against a partially hollowed-out tree trunk, sliding back into what little protection it offered from the rain. Why in God's name hadn't I just ripped the locket off my neck the second I felt the outburst coming on? I knew in my heart that was exactly what had caused it...I had never felt as angry and full of hate as I did when I was wearing that Horcrux.

The worst part of not being there was not knowing what was happening...had they come up with a plan to find another Horcrux? Were they working on how to get the sword of Godric Gryffindor? At this very moment, was Hermione still crying over my dramatic exit, and was Harry trying to comfort her? I felt my heart thud painfully against my chest at the thought of the two of them alone together. They never fought...never really argued either. Maybe that's why she preferred Harry to me. Maybe that's why she chose him.

But Hermione and I had been doing loads better lately! We hardly argued, and the rows had lasted a much shorter time than the ones before. And after Dumbledore's funeral, we'd gotten much closer...and least I thought we had...and she'd revealed a softer, more venerable side of herself that I had never seen before. Seeing that part of her had elated and terrified me...I was pleased at being the only one she'd shown it to, and horrified that she showed weakness, that she didn't know everything, and that there was a large possibility she could get hurt.

If I thought hard enough I could hear her in my head, saying in that stern, pacifying tone, "Ron, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much." I knew she could take care of herself...hell, she'd have been gone a long time ago if she couldn't...but that was of no comfort to me. I thought back to the middle of July, to the day that I'd first seen her since our last day of school...

Mum had been on my case for the past week and a half, trying to get me to clean my room. She'd come bursting through the door with a basket of rolled-up socks and dumped them onto my bed. "You do realize you'll be sharing this room with Harry when he arrives?" she asked sternly, eyeing the less-than-pristine floor.

"Eh?" I was on my trunk in front of the window, reading over a letter than Harry himself had sent me a few days before, filling me in on the Order's plan to remove his aunt, uncle, and cousin safely from Privet Drive.

"Ronald!" and before I could so much as look up, she had flicked her wand and sent my letter flying to the bedside table. Then she sent a broom flying in my direction. "Clean this floor!" she snapped. "Lord only knows what Harry thinks of..."

"MOLLY!"

Mum and I both jumped as Dad's voice came echoing up the stairs. Mum hurried out into the hallway with me in hot pursuit. "Up here, Arthur!"

Dad came hurtling up the steps, his glasses askew. "Molly! I've just spoken with Kingsley, and they've had word..." he trailed off as he caught sight of me. "Ron, get in your room. I need to speak with your mother."

I stood rooted to the spot. "What's happened?" I asked shakily. "Is it Harry? What..."

"Harry's fine," Dad said shortly, placing a hand on my shoulder and pushing me through the door. "But I have to discuss something with your mother. _Stay in your room, Ron!" _and with that, he shut my door firmly. I could hear their footsteps thudding on the stairs.

I rushed over to the bed, dropping down and digging through the mass of junk underneath. After a moment, I managed to extract a beaten-up Extendable Ear, loaned to me begrudgingly by George. I knew Mum and Dad were in the kitchen, so I sneaked out onto the landing and let the Ear wriggle over the banister and hang in front of the door. Their voices immediately magnified, as though by a speaker.

"...Make her do such a thing?" Mum was asking quietly.

"I've no idea, we'll try to figure it out when she arrives. Mad-Eye seems to think she needs to get here this afternoon."

"Poor dear, not even at peace in the Muggle world..."

I felt the color drain from my face. They were talking about Hermione, there was no other explanation. She was alive...but something horrible must've happened, because she wasn't due to arrive until two days before Harry.

I flung myself down the stairs and reached the kitchen door just as it opened; Dad brushed past me and left through the backdoor...once he'd reached the end of the protective barrier, he Disapparated.

Mum was bustling around the kitchen cooking dinner, looking as though they'd been discussing the weather. She looked up at my entrance and gave me a falsely cheerful smile. "Ron, would you mind rounding up Ginny and asking her to straighten up her room? Hermione's arriving a little early."

She wasn't fooling anyone. "What's happened?" I croaked. "What's the matter with her?"

"Hermione's fine, Ronald. Now go fetch Ginny, please," and she turned her back on me.

Moving as though in a dream, I staggered out to the back yard where Ginny was pulling carrots out of the garden. "Ginny," I said, unable to soften my harsh voice. "Mum needs you to clean up your room. Hermione's coming."

She looked up at me, one hand shielding her eyes from the sunlight. "Now?" she asked, startled. "I thought she wasn't arriving for another week."

I shrugged, then turned away and made for the house, feeling my eyes burn. No matter what my mother said, something was wrong with Hermione, and no one was telling me what it was.

A half hour later I sat at the table in the kitchen, watching Mum put finishing touches on dinner. She attempted to make conversation once or twice, and although I answered her normally, I offered nothing else. I neither wanted or needed to talk about anything except Hermione. A moment later, Ginny joined us in the kitchen and sat down across from me, telling Mum, "I cleaned the room and put new sheets on Hermione's bed."

"Thank you, dear," Mum offered us a strained smile. Ginny looked at me with a raised eyebrow, but I avoided her gaze.

We sat there in silence for about two more minutes when a large silver weasel suddenly materialized onto the kitchen counter where Mum was seasoning the pork chops. It was Dad's Patronus. "Look for us," the weasel said, and vanished.

"Oh good, they're on their way," she said lightly, and hurried over to peer out the window. I watched over her shoulder, thousands of questions running through my mind...

There was a faint pop, and three figures appeared in the yard: Dad, followed by Hermione, and Kingsley Shacklebolt bringing up the end, gripping Hermione's trunk. Ginny gave a squeal of delight and rushed into the living room. I got to my feet heavily, not sure what I was supposed to say, and followed.

I turned the corner to find the two girls hugging. I paused in the doorway, feeling suddenly shy. Not at all how I usually feel around Hermione. It was at that moment that she caught my eye over Ginny's head.

"Ron!" she cried happily, and before I could respond she had flung her arms around my neck. Any prepared greeting died away in my throat as I tucked my arms around her waist, pulling her as close to me as I could.

"Hey, Hermione," I murmured against her sweet-smelling hair, reveling in her solid presence in my arms. Solid proof that she was alive and well.

"Easy Ron, don't attack the poor dear!" Mum said, smiling, as she came out of the kitchen. I released Hermione only reluctantly so she could hug my mother. They parted, and Mum directed her gaze to me once again. "Ron, why don't you help Ginny carry Hermione's trunk up to her room? I'm sure you could do with a nice cup of tea," she added to Hermione.

I opened my mouth to protest, but the three adults were already ushering her into the kitchen. She threw a last glance over her shoulder and gave me a smile...it was clearly an "I'll explain later," sort of smile, so I relaxed.

Ginny fell in step beside me as I cast a spell on the truck and guided it up the stairs. "So what do you reckon is really happening?"

"I've no idea," I said truthfully, easing the trunk through Ginny's door. I didn't want to talk much, at least not until I could talk to Hermione.

We settled the trunk against the wall at the foot of the spare bed in the room; Ginny distractedly smoothed the sheets and arranged the pillows. I leaned against the window and stared out into the yard, knowing that it could take hours for them to be satisfied.

"It feels so good to be back here!"

I jumped at her voice and spun around; Hermione floated in through the door, looking perfectly healthy and beautiful, with her chestnut brown hair and gleaming eyes. Ginny once again ran to hug her, and I felt a twinge of what I now knew to be jealousy in my chest. "I'm so happy you're here!" Ginny said sincerely. "Fred and George are driving me mad, and Mum's going mental about the wedding..."

"How are Bill and Fleur, then?" Hermione asked with interest, getting on her knees and opening her trunk.

"Er...Hermione?" I asked, in barely above a whisper.

"They're fine!" Ginny reported happily. "They'll be here in a few days, before the Order goes to fetch Harry."

"Have you written to him?" she asked keenly, placing a few things on the table beside her bed.

"Hermione?" I asked, with a bit more conviction.

"No," Ginny sighed. "Nor has he written me. I guess it's better that way." Hermione made a sympathetic noise.

"HERMIONE!"

Both girls gave a start, as if just noticing I was there. "Yes, Ron?" she asked innocently.

"Can I have a word? Now?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Of course you can," she got to her feet, pausing only to give Ginny's hand a soft squeeze. "Everything will work out," she said quietly. Ginny nodded, swiping at her eyes.

I stood back and held the door open for her; she barely glanced at me as she walked into the hallway, nor when I grabbed her arm and fairly dragged her off into my room, slamming the door behind us.

"WHAT IN THE HELL IS GOING ON?"

"It's nice to see you too, Ronald," she said in a lofty voice, smirking at me.

Rage boiled over into my chest. "Don't you give me that! You're not supposed to be here! You weren't supposed to arrive for a week!"

Pain flitted through her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't realize I was intruding..."

Everything I was feeling seeped out of me. I was so damn confused, and she sure as hell wasn't making it any easier. I heaved a huge sigh and said softly, "Hermione, when I heard Dad telling Mum that you were coming, I was scared out of my wits. I knew something had happened, and I didn't know if you were hurt...or...or something," I finished lamely. "But you can't keep it from me. You, me and Harry can't keep anything from each other anymore. We don't have time to be bottling up secrets."

She gave me a strange look, and then it was replaced with a wan smile. She reached over and took my hand, lacing our fingers together. My heart seemed to stop completely; had that line about secrets been too transparent? Was she using Legilimency on me? Oh Lord, I couldn't handle it, even though I was almost positive she already knew...

"Ron," she started off shakily, and I could feel her hand trembling, so I squeezed it tightly, urging her to continue. She gave an audible sniff and then looked into my face with a slightly strained smile as she said, "I've wiped my parents' memories."

We stood there in silence for what must've been at least a minute, and then I said stupidly, "You did what?"

"It was a very mild Memory Charm," she said robotically, as if she'd rehearsed it. "I made them into a new couple, with a new home...and a new life," she paused, as if thinking about it, and then added, "And of course, I had to alert the Order. They weren't exactly pleased...bit confused, I'd wager."

I wasn't following, as I seldom do. "But...why? I don't understand..."

She gave a half-helpless shrug. "Ron, they're in a constant state of worry, and it's my fault. I'd made it so that they don't know they have a daughter," her eyes were oddly bright. "If everything turns out well in the end, I know the countercharm to restore their original memories. And, of course, it means they won't be any the wiser," she stopped, and had to take a steadying breathe before she could say, "if I die."

She might as well have poured cold water over my head. I stared at her, openmouthed. "Don't say that!" I finally managed to get out. "It's not going to happen!"

There would have been some point in the past when she would have stopped; she would have kept her views to herself so as not to provoke further reaction. But now, some invisible barrier seemed to have shattered, and before I knew it, Hermione was crying her eyes out, her breaths coming in halting gasps.

Feeling horrible, although not having actually done anything myself, I wrapped my arms around her and lowered us both onto my bed. Hot tears were streaming down her cheeks and onto my neck, and she stammered, "But it c-c-could! It could h-happen to any of us! H-harry, or me. Or e-e-even you!" surprisingly, it was after she said this that she seemed to cry even harder.

My own eyes were stinging as well, and it took every once of Gryffindor courage I had to not break down and sob right along with her. I hated that she was telling me these damn blunt truths…I knew how much at risk we all were, and I'd known it for a very long time. But having her put it into words was almost too much.

"It's not going to happen," I repeated stubbornly, threading my fingers through her busy brown hair. "Not to you or Harry either. I won't let it!" I finished fiercely.

To my immense relief, I felt her sobs subsiding; she was quieting down, although her face was still hidden in my shoulder. "But Ron, it _could_! And it's really very selfish of me to be losing my head like this when we're supposed to be strong for Harry, but I just can't help it! I don't know how I'd manage if…if I lost either of you."

I sat there for a moment, at a loss for words, then gathered myself and resumed the slow stroking of her hair. "Hermione, it's not like we're just stumbling into this blindly. You realize that Dumbledore had to have left Harry with some sort of plan? How many times have we been in tight scrapes before? Harry hasn't let us down yet."

"I know," she whispered into my ear, making me twitch.

"And I don't think your losing your head at all. We'd be absolute nutters to not be afraid. And as for you being selfish…you're about the most generous person I know, Hermione."

Far from having the intended effect, Hermione instantly stiffened; her head jerked back, and she fixed me with a steely eye. I almost melted under her direct gaze. "How can you say that, Ron?" she snapped. "How can you say that, after everything I've done to you?"

Bewildered, I started off with, "But you haven't…"

"Yes, I have!" she cried, leaping off the bed and trembling as I stared at her. "What about all those stupid arguments? What about all the rows we've gotten into, how meaningless they were? What about when Crookshanks went after Scabbers, and I didn't do anything to stop it!"

Here it was four years after the fact, and she was still dwelling on it? "Well, see how that turned out? Shame Crookshanks didn't go ahead and snap him up, to be honest…"

"And during the Yule Ball, I knew how much you hated that Victor was competing against Harry, and I still went with him anyway!"

She still didn't know. She still didn't realize that the whole outburst during the Yule Ball had nothing to do with Harry or the tournament, but rather that Krum had saw what had escaped me for so long. "Well, I was a bit of a prat that year, I should've known you'd never help Krum over Harry, I don't know what got into…"

"And then ignoring you for so long just because you were dating Lavender! Just because I thought she wasn't good enough for you was no reason for me to believe it would turn out like Harry and Cho!"

Now I was really uncomfortable. How could she remind me of that particular mistake at this crucial moment? And had she really believed that Lavender wasn't good enough for me? That was as big a surprise as anything else…

"I'm lucky everyone didn't stop talking to me, I was such a stupid git. I'm sure I must've deserved it."

"But you didn't!" she collapsed back onto the bed, although a good few feet away from me. "What if something had happened to one of us, and we'd never talked again? When I found out you'd been poisoned, all I could think about was how stupid it was, and what if the last thing I said to you had been something horrible?"

She looked so miserable that my heart broke. I moved over closer to her and put an arm around her shoulders. "But nothing bad _did _happen, Hermione," I told her comfortingly, giving her a squeeze. "And I know that you didn't do anything that I didn't bloody well bring on myself. Honestly, I have no idea how you and Harry have put up with me these past few years. Pigwidgeon has better sense sometimes."

She giggled softly, and again tipped her head into the crook of my neck. "Still, Ron," she said, very seriously, "We don't have the luxury of time like we had in third year. We can't keep getting into these silly arguments."

"Well, if you'll try, I'll try too. Although I can't promise much," I added, "if Crookshanks decides to eat Pigwidgeon."

She gave another little laugh, a tinkling laugh that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. "I suppose I'll have to make that exception," she looked at me and smiled. My tongue suddenly seemed to swell, as though I'd downed one of the twins Ton-Tongue Toffees. "Thank you, Ron," and she leaned over and gave me a sweet, gentle kiss on the cheek. I must've made some sort of noise that she took as a response, because she got off the bed and made for the door. "I suppose I should go help your mother and prepare myself before Fred and George get here."

The sharp snap of the door closing behind her jarred me back to my senses. I sat in my slowly darkening room, bound and damn determined to make this whole Horcrux hunt as smooth for her as possible.

Excluding, of course, the fact that the most dangerous wizard in history had a personal death wish for all of us. That was a bit of a downer...

---Okay guys! Reviews are always appreciated, but mean people sink my battleship!


	4. Guilt & Waiting

The rain was falling harder than ever; my jeans and sweatshirt were soaked through, and the wobbly, bare tree trunk was of little help. Defeated, I got to my feet and strode once again out onto the riverbank, staring around...hoping against all hope that I would hear one of their voices. After doing this for a good five minutes, I realized that they were gone...and brooding about it wasn't bringing them back. I'd failed. Harry and Hermione were out of my sight now, and I couldn't help them, no matter how badly I wanted to...no matter the promise I'd made that I'd keep them both safe...

It was all too much. I had to get myself out of there. The Burrow was out of the question...even if I somehow managed to fake a complete recovery from spattergroit, the look on Fred and George's faces when they realized I'd pulled a Percy...

But where? I couldn't stay in this forest forever. Perhaps Auntie Muriel? _God no, not after the way she acted at the wedding..._

And that's when it hit me...Bill. I knew he wouldn't be exceptionally pleased with what I'd done, but he wouldn't turn his back on family. Bill had always been the nicest to me, and probably my favorite brother. Living alongside Fleur would now be no problem, as her beauty hadn't affected me for a solid two years.

I was dreading having to Apparate again, but didn't have much of a choice. So I took a deep breath and focused carefully on the place Mum had told me they would be moving into after the wedding: Shell Cottage.

I cast one last look at the deserted riverbank, and as I turned into the deafening blackness, felt relieved that the raindrops sliding down my face would mask the tears that had joined them...

The first thing I noticed as I burst into fresh air was that the weather surrounding my brother's house could not have been more different than what I'd just left. Sunlight was streaming down onto the slightly damp ground, and it was very heartening, despite being very cold. A salty scent reached me, along with the crashing of the sea against the cliffs. The cottage stood overlooking the water, stout and beautiful, made of shells. After all I'd been through in the past few months, it was heaven.

I staggered heavily towards the house, the thought of food obscuring any introduction I might have come up with. This was unfortunate, for at that exact moment the door fell open, and Fleur stepped into the garden, a basket at her side for gathering vegetables. She caught sight of me immediately, and her lovely blue eyes widened as she screamed, "Bill! Bill, come quick! 'Et eez Ronald!"

And there he was, bright red hair tied back in a ponytail, eyes wide as he rushed out to stand between me and his wife. Almost faint with happiness, I started to call out to him, but then froze as he lifted his wand.

"Your most embarrassing moment as a child?"

So that was it. I sighed, silently damning the creator of Polyjuice Potion. "When I was eight, Fred and George stuffed me in a dress and suspended me from the Christmas tree."

Bill's arm relaxed, and he leapt forward to help me. "What's happened? Where are Harry and Hermione? Are they hurt?"

" 'Ush, Bill," Fleur scolded. "Let zis boy 'ave some food, 'e must be starving!"

Ten minutes later, I was seated in their small kitchen, eating all I could of Fleur's delicious vegetable soup and warm bread. She stood at the stove, stirring the soup as fast as I could eat it, and Bill sat across from me, looking worried and curious. When I'd finally eaten my fill, I sat back in the chair and began to talk.

When I reached the part about being cornered in Tottenham Court Road, both of them exchanged glances. "What?" I asked, looking between them.

Bill explained that there was a jinx on Voldemort's name...a quick and easy way to track down Order members. I gaped when he told me that Kingsley had almost been captured in this way, but had managed to escape. I opened my mouth to ask more questions, but Fleur cut across me.

"'E 'as 'ad too much excitement for one night, I theenk. 'E needs rest."

And so she showed me to a large and comfortable guest room upstairs, where I immediately flopped down on the bed, thinking. So now we knew how we'd been caught up with so fast...would Harry and Hermione escape the next time, should they slip up and say You-Know-Who's name?

_They won't say the name, _I told myself furiously. They couldn't...not until I was there to help. Because I was going to get back to them, somehow. I rolled over onto my side, and felt a sharp stabbing in my leg...grumbling, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the Deluminator. It glinted innocently in my hand; I clicked it, and the lights zoomed off. Slightly disgruntled at the fact that I still didn't know what Dumbledore intended me to do with it, I rolled back over and instantly fell asleep.

I quickly settled into a routine at Shell Cottage. It wasn't under the watch of an enemy eye as of yet, and seeing as how I was supposed to be at home on my deathbed, Bill made it absolutely clear I was not to leave the house for any reason.

I realized right off that neither Bill nor Fleur were very impressed when they found out the reason I'd left Harry and Hermione. I suppose they could see the regret, though, because they let it go reasonably quickly. Bill filled me in on news of the family and of the Ministry's new Muggle Act. After relating what had happened right after I left, he told me all about the Snatchers, groups of wizards out catching Muggle-borns and blood traitors. He then introduced me to Potterwatch, broadcast over the wireless, which dealt exclusively with news of the anti-Voldemort move.

And so I shut myself up in my room, coming out only at mealtimes, and began listening obsessively for news of Harry and Hermione. I knew that nothing drastically bad had happened, or it would have been all over the wireless and _Daily Prophet_ at once. If there was so much as a sighting, I would be on my way at once, never mind the consequences.

The days crawled by. And still, no word. Nothing happened. Every morning I rose with a slightly strangled feeling of hope in my stomach, and every night I went to sleep feeling as though a block of lead was sitting on my chest. Maybe something had happened that the rest of the world, friend or enemy, didn't know about. Perhaps they'd starved to death. Or maybe they were doing just fine, getting along famously without me. That one hurt worst of all.

I spent every waking minute worrying about them...or her. I couldn't stand to think of them together, out there taking care of each other. So I thought about them separately. Unfortunately, Harry got very little thought when I did this. My whole consciousness was filled with Hermione.

When I wasn't worrying about whether she was alive or not, I was worrying that she was cold. Or hungry. Maybe she was lonely, seeing as how Harry tended to hole himself up in his own troubles a lot. I could recall countless times we'd sneaked over to each other's cots while he sat alone, and talked. I could clearly remember tucking my own blanket over her when it was particularly cold outside, and could remember how her voice had helped keep my sane when I was wearing the Horcrux. Sometimes, I wanted to just hurl the radio out of the window and forget that either of them ever existed. But then the cold feeling would settle in my stomach again, and I'd wearily turn on the wireless and start a long vigil once more.

Days seemed to melt together, and before I knew it Christmas Eve was upon us. As we sat in the kitchen finishing off some sort of French pudding Fleur rustled up, Bill casually told me that they were planning to remain at the cottage for the holidays, instead of returning to the Burrow. He claimed that they would rather enjoy their first Christmas alone, away from the family. I was secretly grateful for the company.

After dinner, I returned to my room and turned on the wireless, intending to listen only for a few moments. Moments, however, sped into hours. I knew better than to think that sleep would be possible, so I camped out in an armchair, keeping deliberately uncomfortable, and stared out the window, thinking hard.

In my more optimistic fantasies, I'd imagined that I'd have picked up on their trail way before Christmas, and that Harry would've agreed to take a break and come celebrate at Shell Cottage before all of us continued the Horcrux search. I'd wanted to take Hermione out onto the cliff overlooking the water, and talk to her. I'd found that the sloshing waves were very calming, which was something I felt she needed. Maybe I would've been able to get up the courage to finally tell her what had been etched into my brain since July. Or maybe I'd make a complete prat of myself and end up leaping into the water below.

As long as she was there, I'd take my chances.

I checked my watch; it was almost dawn, although the swirl of blackness outside the window was a sharp contradiction. The voices coming from the radio had gone fuzzy in my exhaustion, and as I reached to turn it off, wondering if maybe Hermione would think of me today...

I froze, my fingers on the knob. I blinked several times, trying to get her voice out of my head. _It's only because you were thinking so hard about her, _I told myself slowly. _You're imagining hearing her.._

But in my heart, I knew I wasn't.

Hermione's voice had just come out of my pocket. I reached in, and pulled out the only thing that was there: the Deluminator. It looked just as it always had; it sat in the palm of my hand, glinting innocently. But I was _certain _I'd heard her voice…and she had said my name. My name…and something else, something about a wand that I couldn't make out. Or maybe I was delusional, had been hoping for so long to hear her voice.

Idly, I clicked the Deluminator. The light from the candle in my room zoomed inside, as it was supposed to, and at almost the same time, another light materialized outside my window. I gaped at it; far from being the guttering strip of light that had disappeared from the candle, this light was large and round, glowing an eerie silvery-blue.

I stared at it for a long moment, almost steeling myself to do what I knew the little ball of light expected. Then, almost as though it were relaying me secret instructions, I rose determinedly from the armchair and rustled up the spare rucksack that Bill had loaned me. I moved quietly about the house, packing what I felt was necessary, then scribbled a hasty message to Bill and Fleur, thanking them for helping me and telling them not to worry.

The dark, still morning was deathly cold as I slipped quietly out the door into the garden. I had been a little worried that I would have to search for the light again…this thought was blown from the water as soon as I stepped outside. The pulsating, bluish ball was hovering over Fleur's carefully planted rosebushes, shimmering and winking at me. Now that I was so close, little shrivels of doubt and fear began trickling through my body.

Taking no notice, the ball of light began floating off around the house. After casting one last nervous look over my shoulder, I followed. It led me around to the far side of the shed, and then stopped. I came to an abrupt halt right behind it, staring around. There was nothing here that shouldn't be. I had no brilliant flashes of understanding.

I cocked my head and looked at it…it was bobbing there as though waiting for something. If it expected me to have something to do with it, it was going to be sadly mistaken, because I didn't know what in the bloody hell to…

I gasped. The little pulsing ball of light was floating again, this time towards me. One part of me wanted to bolt back into the house…but somehow, I knew it wasn't something to be feared. So I simply held my ground, watching it a bit warily, as it bobbed right up to my chest. My limbs relaxed, believing that to be the extent of it, but then the ball of light moved again…right into my chest.

It was the strangest sensation, something I knew I'd never felt before. There was a warmth inside where it had entered…not just warm, but _hot. _It seemed to lodge itself right by my heart…and suddenly, I felt a peacefulness. I could finally feel a warm, gentle understanding of what I was supposed to do…it was as though a wise old voice was whispering soft instructions in my ear.

I listened carefully...by now I had figured out that the words seemed to be emitting from my heart, rather my head…and when I was absolutely sure of what I was doing, I turned on the spot.

The pulsing heat was gone from my chest, but I was still convinced I had done the right thing. I had emerged on the side of a large hill, dappled in the last strips of silvery moonlight. Snow covered the ground thickly, and silenced my steps as I set off around the hill, calling both of their names. There was no answer except for the lonely howl of the wind in the trees.

But I wasn't to be deterred; I knew they were around her somewhere. Or at least, the Deluminator did. And I was much more willing to trust it than myself.

I carried on like that for a good while, pacing around the hill and shouting for them. It was as if I could feel their presence…or her presence, anyway. I had no doubt that the feeling that had entered my chest so very strongly had been my determination to find her. Of course, if I succeeded in that, I'd find Harry as well.

Killing two owls with one Bludger.

But it wasn't going to be simple. After covering the hill at least three times and not getting any closer than I had been, I set upon another tactic. I found a reasonably covered spot under an overhanging of thick tree leaves and spread my sleeping bag. If forced, I would wait. I would wait until Voldemort himself appeared out of nowhere and blasted me into pieces.

Thanks to Hermione's thoroughness, I knew there would be no way I'd be able to find them under the protective enchantments. But they wouldn't stay here long, and I'd spot them once they'd taken down the tent. Mentally, I worded my apology, hoping at least one of them would accept it.

If I ever found them, that is. A blood-red sunrise bathed the snow a pale pink, then a sunny yellow as it climbed across the sky. And still, no sign. How much longer would they stay in the same spot?

Must longer than I'd have wanted, it seemed. I stayed hunched down in my sleeping bag for the rest of the day, as the sun traveled in a wide, high arc over the sky, then eased itself back to the horizon. The trees stood silhouetted against a lime-green sunset…and still, no sign of either Harry or Hermione.

By the time the sun had disappeared completely over the darkened skyline, I knew I was too late. There wasn't a chance they'd have stayed here too long, fearing discovery. I clambered out of my sleeping bag, cursing as my raw, unprotected fingers dragged along the ground.

Once I'd gathered my stuff and made one more sweep of the area, I removed the Deluminator yet again from my pocket and clicked it. The light appeared again, and this time I was the one watching it expectantly. Not to disappoint, the bluish ball bounced along through the air, not even pausing as it entered my chest. The familiar heat returned, also with the same burning understanding. I closed my eyes and confidently Disapparated.

My confidence, however, was short-lived. I stepped forth into another bloody forest, this one even darker and denser than the one where I'd narrowly escaped the Snatchers. Not able to stand still for even a moment, I set off through the tightly bunched trees, keeping my eyes and ears open for any sign of my friends.

I walked for hours; the night was so black that I could barely make out the dimly-lit tip of my wand. The warm, comforting heat that had enveloped my heart when the now-familiar ball of light was present had been doused and replaced by iciness. I couldn't keep the worst of thoughts from entering my head. Who in the name of Merlin was to say that the stupid little Deluminator wasn't stringing me along, the butt of some malicious joke? What was Dad always saying?

_Never trust anything if you can't see where it keeps its brains._

The way it was turning out, this bloody thing was no better than Riddle's diary, none at all!

But how could I expect something from Dumbledore…something he'd left me especially…would be bad or evil? He may not have left Harry much solid advice, but he'd gotten him started, what with the Horcruxes and all. Just because I was too thick to figure out his plan for leaving me with it was no reason to…

I stopped dead in my tracks. Ahead, the darkness had thinned. Not only had in thinned, but a faint, silvery light was creeping through the tree trunks. Caught off guard, half-terrified, I hastily whispered, "_Nox," _and the light on my wand extinguished.

Far from getting darker, the silvery white light intensified so much that I had to shield my eyes with my hand. The trees were bathed in the gentle light, casting odd shadows as it danced along the velvety blackness…

And then, so far away that I had to squint to see it, appeared a creature. A Patronus. My heart leapt to my throat.

Harry's Patronus.

I started forward eagerly, and then almost as quickly drew back. This…this couldn't be Harry's Patronus. I had seen it often enough to realize that this particular creature was not the cantering, antlered stag that normally erupted from Harry's wand…it was stepping daintily, delicately, through the forest…a far more gentler and reserved soul.

It moved silently through the trees, and I was almost hypnotized, in a trance, as I followed. It led me to a small clearing, free of trees with pools of moonlight illuminated the ground. I stopped, open-mouthed, and felt my heart drop slightly. Whatever this creature...a _doe_, I now realized…was doing, it didn't have an audience.

I took a reluctant step back into the cover of trees…

Just as Harry emerged from the forest on the other side.


	5. Rescue

A/N: I know this chapter is a bit shorter than the rest, so please bear with me.

His face was framed in the pale glow, his expression a mirror of what I was sure had been my own...surprise, curiosity, awe. The Patronus had come to a complete halt, and they were now staring at each other, as if each was waiting on the other to make a move. Unsurprisingly, Harry took it upon himself to do just that; he broke into a desperate jog, headed straight for the doe...

He was probably ten paces from her when she vanished in a swirl of dancing silver mist. There was a quick moment in which all was deathly dark and silent, and then Harry's wand tip flared. The tiny dot of light danced around him, lifting and lowering as he searched for the doe. I was frozen in my tracks, feeling oddly as though I was an intruder on a very private moment.

It was then that the small flame of light stopped suddenly...it then soared into the air, meaning that Harry had raised his wand. Straining through the gloom, I was barely able to make out a roughly circular glint of frozen water...a forest pool.

The ignited wand tip was now almost on the ground; Harry had gotten to his knees by the pool. The reflection of light gleamed off the solid water as Harry angled the wand down...what in the devil was he looking for?

Light suddenly flooded my eyes; Harry had moved the wand slowly over the trees surrounding him, looking. I had the sudden urge to call out to him, let him know I was there. But some unknown force forced me a half-pace to the right, behind a tree. I was so far away I doubted he could see me anyhow.

By now, thin streaks of moonlight were mottling the ground, sending blazing reflections off the pure-white snow. Squinting, I could just make out Harry's outline beside the pool. Then he muttered something, pointing his wand. He said it so quietly I wondered if it could have been a spell...apparently so, because a moment later he swore, then got to his feet and paced around the circle of ice.

He lay the wand down at the water's edge and took a step back. I didn't have the faintest idea what he thought he was doing. That, however, was revealed all too soon.

"_Diffindo."_

There was a sharp crack, as though from a shotgun. I felt my insides turn to ice, and it had nothing to do with the freezing night air. I realized what he was going to do about a second before it happened: with a muffled splash and a very audible gasp, Harry dunked feet-first into the black water.

"_Lumos_!" I spat at the wand, scrambling over the snow. He'd been under for what I considered a very long time...why hadn't he emerged, damn it?

As I clambered through the deepened snowdrifts, I caught, from the corner of my eye, a movement from the trees surrounding us. Without thinking, without processing, I shot a look into the forest...but whatever I thought I saw had vanished, as quickly and smoothly as the doe.

Harry's wand was still glowing on the water's edge; dread surged thickly into my throat as I caught sight of Harry floating pale and still, completely submerged in that black hell, ridiculously reminiscent of the Inferi he'd described so many months ago.

Not thinking, not feeling...not even wanting to...I plunged into the water without bothering to remove my clothes. In blind panic, I swiped my arms like a windmill, feeling for Harry...and there he was. Suddenly feeling very hot and very cold at the same instant, I wrapped an arm around his chest and heaved, stretching out with my other arm, scrabbling to break through the icy darkness...

And then we were both out, laying shaking in the snow. I noticed immediately that the Horcrux was around Harry's neck, and that the chain was digging into his throat, cutting off his windpipe...that had to have been why he hadn't gotten out.

With a heavy hand, I found my wand lying on the ground where I'd dropped it, and none-too-gently forced it between the chain and Harry's neck, croaking, "_Diffindo." _

It severed; the locket fell away cleanly, the tiny chain in two immaculate pieces, and Harry drew a rattling breath.

I knew what I had to do, even as I'd pulled Harry from the water. Not even the horror of seeing his seemingly-lifeless body had been able to draw my attention away from the fact that a glittering, ruby-encrusted sword lay at the bottom of the pool.

The sword of Godric Gryffindor.

That was what he was after...it was what we were all after. One step closer to ridding the world of Voldemort's Horcruxes. Maybe this was my comeuppance for leaving

If it had to be me, and there was no other way, then so be it. Gritting my teeth hard against what I knew was coming, I again slid into that endless sea of ice. At the very bottom, I closed quaking fingers around the hilt of the sword, dragging its dead weight back to the surface. It seemed much easier climbing back into the freezing air a second time; I wasn't sure why.

Harry had come around, and was sputtering and choking on the ground. Not feeling all that brilliant myself, I staggered heavily over to where the Horcrux gleamed evilly in the snow. A sudden frustration, an annoyance beyond anything I had ever felt, was overpowering me. What was it with him and believing the good in everything? Hadn't he known this stupid thing would've killed him cheerfully?

I felt very little sympathy. In fact, I was rather agitated.

Harry was stirring more now. Standing over him, locket in one hand and sword in the other, I gasped breathlessly, "Are...you..._mental?"_

My voice seemed to act as a Stinging Hex. Harry scrambled, shivering, to his feet, staring at me.

"Why the _hell _didn't you take this off before you dived?" I demanded, shaking the chain at him before scraping my sopping hair off my face

He didn't answer, could barely look at me. He hurriedly grabbed his layers of clothes and began tugging them on. When he was fully clothed, although still shivering quite horribly, he stammered, "It was y...you?"

It was me? He was bloody well right it was me! Who'd he expect, _Snape? _Did he expect Ginny to burst out of nowhere and pull him from that damned ice water, and then warm him up with a nice snog? "Well, yeah!" I said in disbelief.

He was staring at me in confusion...almost skeptically. "Y...you cast that doe?"

Oh, so that was it. "Oh. Of course not."

Harry was now fumbling with the small bag that Hagrid gave him for his birthday. He pulled it around his neck, donned a final sweater, and then asked bluntly, "How come you're here?"

Every apology, excuse, and cover-up that I had been forming for the past few weeks seemed to lodge in my throat. "Well, I've...you know...I've come back. If...if you still want me."

He was staring at me harder than ever, as if I'd just announced my engagement to Bellatrix Lestrange. _Rubbish Weasley, you don't deserve to come back you know it! _I almost feared he would say aloud the very thing I was thinking. Tension had assembled itself around us once again, and there seemed no hope of loosening it. Harry glanced, almost unconsciously, at the pond of now-refrozen water. I had the feeling he was weighing my abandonment against my somewhat dramatic return...ashamed, I looked down.

I was still holding Gryffindor's sword. It was heavy and thick in my hands, and I was slightly shocked that I still had hold of it. "I got it out," I said, lifting it so Harry could see. "That's why you went in. Right?" I added, desperate for some glimmer of hope.

"Yeah," he confirmed, waving it aside like a troublesome Wrackspurt. "But I don't understand. How'd you find us?"

"Long story," I said truthfully, and admitted to following the same doe he had through the forest.

"Did you see anyone else?"

"No, I..." I trailed off, glancing around to where I thought I'd seen movement as I'd ran towards the pool. "I did think I saw something over there, but I wasn't going to..."

I was cut off as Harry dashed to the trees to search. He found nothing he shouldn't have, I suppose, and came back to me, looking slightly puzzled.

"So how did the sword get in that pool?" I asked, feeling that any strained silence couldn't be good. We looked at the sword simultaneously. "You reckon this is the real one?"

His face was set. "One way to find out, isn't there?" looking around, holding the lit wand high over his head, he walked over and picked up a flat rock lying underneath a towering tree. "Come here," he commanded.

Relieved, I walked over to him and held out the sword.

"No," he said in an odd voice. "You should do it."


	6. Desire & Dread

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, don't you reckon Fred would still be alive? And Percy be dead? Wow…I don't like Percy. But alas, I can do nothing about it. Because I own nothing.

A/N: I'm nervous about this chapter. Seeing as how none of us could clearly know what Ron was feeling during the locket scene, I feel odd trying to interpret it. And towards the end it got hard to make it very original, with all the canon dialogue. But I did my best! So review and let me know…hit or miss? Flamers beware…I have a toasting fork!

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It was as though someone had cast a Muffilato spell on the forest surrounding us; the only sound was of my pounding heart, which was beating a very painful tattoo against my chest. He wanted me to do it. For once, the good and great _Harry Potter_ needed a lowly Weasley to do something he couldn't.

Chances were because it would kill me.

"You got the sword out of the pool," I could hear him saying, as though he were very far away.

_Against my will. I was forced. Your inability to get the sword forced me to do it. It's the curse of being a good person. _

"I think it's got to be you."

_I think you're mental. I think breaking up with Ginny was a mistake. I think the Chudley Cannons are the best thing since Chocolate Frogs. But are you listening to me?_

Blindly, I heard Harry mutter something about opening it. I tried…and miserably failed...to _not _look horrified. This was a lost cause, seeing as how I could feel what little color left in my face draining.

"No!" I spat, feeling bile rising in my throat. "No, don't open it! I'm serious!"

"Why not? Let's get rid of the damn thing, it's been months…"

How in the bloody hell could he think I didn't realize that? Yes, it had been months! It had been months since we'd found the thing, months since I'd left them, months since my gaze had rested on Hermione. For anyone who wanted the damn definition of time crawling, all they had to do was sit hunched next to a radio, waiting to feel the falling sensation that meant one thing, that the two people they cared most about had been captured, or killed…

"I can't, Harry!" I was ashamed to hear my voice cracking, and it had nothing to do with the cold. "That thing's bad for me, it made me think stuff…stuff I was already thinking, but it made it worse! I can't explain it…I can't do it, Harry!" to an outside observer it would appear I'd lost my mind: I took several long steps back, the sword clanging hollowly at my side, shaking my head helplessly.

Harry was talking, but for quite possibly the very first time since our fated friendship had started, I didn't care. I wasn't listening, and he couldn't make me.

"…uses it. Please, just get rid of it, Ron!"

He was begging me…just as Hermione had run after me, begging me to come back all those nights ago. I could still hear her voice, sobs wrenching through her as she called my name, over and over…if we finally got rid of it, if we could _finally _put this stupid thing behind us…I'd see Hermione. She was waiting, back at their camp. The swiveling locket on the chain was the only thing in my way…

Breathing hard, as though it could ward off the evil I knew was inside that Horcrux, I took a nervous step forward, forcing my limp arm to raise the sword. "Tell…tell me when," I said faintly.

Harry gave me an encouraging look, and then focused all his attention on the locket. Thousands of emotions were fighting in my head for dominance: terror, apprehension, wonder, also a strangled sense of relief, that it was about to end…

"One…two…three…_open."_

But it wasn't the familiar voice that had so come to be associated with Harry…from his mouth issued a harsh, weird hiss. The small doors of the necklace gave and opened.

And there it was, gleaming out from the hell that imprisoned it…a single, handsome eye.

"Stab," Harry said forcefully, holding the locket steady.

_Wha…oh, right. Stab. _I shook the vapors out of my head…all I had to do was raise the sword…it would all be over…and then I'd see Hermione, and we'd be one step closer to the end, to Voldemort, to going home…

"_I have seen your heart, and it is mine." _

Harry's voice reached me…he sounded frantic. I wish I could've heard what he said.

"_I have seen your dreams, Ronald Weasley, and I have seen your fears. All you desire is possible, but all that you dread is also possible…least loved, always, by the mother who craved a daughter…Least loved, now, by the girl that prefers your friend…second best, always, eternally overshadowed…"_

In one eye, I saw myself as eleven, staring into the Mirror of Erised at my older self…myself _now, _I realized…as the Head Boy badge and Quidditch cup glittered in unison. And in the other eye, the one trained fixedly on the locket, I saw Harry and Hermione rising, blossoming out of the Horcrux.

With a strangled yell…a whimper…I staggered back, unable to tear my gaze from either sight. Hermione was in the mirror with me, her arms draped loosely around my shoulders, whispering words of love into my ear. Next second, she was swaying in the cold winter night, intertwining with the horrible demon that was Harry's image. "_Who could look at you, who would ever look at you, beside Harry Potter? What have you ever done, compared with the Chosen One? What are you, compared with the Boy Who Lived?" _

All I desired…and all I dreaded…

The Hermione in the mirror took a stumbling step forward, collapsing with a crash, her chocolate brown eyes glossing over. I watched helplessly in my mind's eye as glass shattered…blood streamed in rivulets over the broken shards. My other self…Head Boy, what a laugh…fell to his knees…wait, _my knees…_what in the bloody hell…

"_Who wouldn't prefer him?" _ cackled the Riddle-Hermione, glowering at me, "_What woman would take you, you are nothing, nothing to him!" _And then they were kissing, Harry and Hermione, entwined together.

Harry and Hermione…

"Do it, Ron!"

But no. Hermione was mine.

And not even Harry Bloody Potter would get in my way. I looked toward him, feeling something powerful erupting in my body…what an urge to raise the sword, and drive it in to the hilt...

"Ron?"

His voice echoing in my head, I felt my arm follow willingly as the sword of Godric Gryffindor took on a mind of its own; there was a flash of silver and a scream, a scream worthy of the devil, as the sword tip plunged into the beaten locket. There was a quick burst of sound and color…and then it was over.

Sweating despite the ridiculous chill, panting as though I'd just run a marathon; I let the sword fall to my side. The remains of the Horcrux were smoking slightly, as the last traces of evil evaporated into the still winter night.

But the image…Hermione entwined with Harry…Hermione's horrified cries as she stumbled after me…the tears trailing down her face at Dumbledore's funeral…I could feel them on my cheek…

No I couldn't. Those tears were mine, and mine alone.

Harry moved as though in a dream, picking up the broken locket and examining it. But I didn't care. How could I care about anything…did I deserve to care about anyone?

Overwhelmed, I sank to my knees, holding my head…the sword lay forgotten beside me. All I had ever wanted to do was help, to prove to Harry that he hadn't been mistaken in our friendship. To prove to Hermione that I could take care of them…of her…that I wasn't just another red-haired Weasley brother…I couldn't stop shaking. I couldn't feel the icy wind on my face, or the powdery snow that twinkled beneath me. I was numb. Comfortably numb.

And then Harry's hand was on my shoulder, and he was telling me softly about Hermione, about long nights of listening to her cry after I left. The nights they had stayed stubbornly silent, my absence noticeable to the point of insanity. And I could hear those words…the ones I'd heard playing over and over in my head like a broken record, droning in a monotone to rival that of Binns'…

"She's like my sister. I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me. It's always been like that. I thought you knew."

As he got to his feet and walked off, I swiped my sleeve angrily at my face. Know? How could I have known? How could I have known that Hermione's reaction towards Harry had always been that of sisterly love? Was I so conceited to believe that she picked fights with _me, _and had flaming rows with _me, _and snogged Krum to get a rise out of _me_, because she had the same confusing, burning emotions that I had?

Merlin's pants.

I heard his footsteps approaching and quickly got to my feet, pausing only to run my hand once more over my stinging eyes. "I'm sorry," I babbled without preamble. "I'm sorry I left. I know I've been a…a…" I couldn't describe what I'd been. I had somehow managed to surpass myself in idiocy, a feat I was sure I'd never see.

"You sort of made up for it tonight. Getting the sword. Finishing off the Horcrux. Saving my life."

I felt myself blush. "You make it sound a lot cooler than it was."

Then next moment, we were embracing like brothers; I was reminded fiercely of the night in the Shrieking Shack, as Lupin had pulled Sirius to his feet, the past forgotten, their friendship intact.

"And now," Harry said, breaking the silence, "all we've got to do is find the tent."

This was soon accomplished, and as we walked through the dark and silent forest I noticed a spring in my step. An invisible weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I knew I was back where I belonged…where I was needed. And I was about to see Hermione. It took all the self-restraint I had to let Harry into the tent ahead of me, and not go screaming over to her cot and beg her forgiveness.

"Hermione! Hermione, wake up!"

And then there she was, beautiful as always; I felt my breath catch. She sat up on her bunk, her wild, untamed hair take hostage her sleepy face. Her eyes were squinted with tiredness, but her voice was sharp and concerned. "Harry? What's wrong…are you all right?"

"Everything's fine. More than fine. I'm great," there was a definite excitement in my best mate's voice that I might've been able to hear, had I been less fixated on Hermione. "There's someone here."

"What do you mean? Who's…?"

She looked past his shoulder…and our eyes met. I stood there like a great lump, the sword hanging uselessly by my side, water streaming off my sopping clothes and disappearing into the carpet. I barely noticed Harry slip off to the side.

Then she had gotten out of bed and was moving towards me, almost in a trance. Her eyes were searching my face, as though she hardly dared to believe I was really there.

I'd waited a lifetime of four years to see her look at me that way.

She came to a halt in front of me, eyes wide and lips parted. It took every ounce of restraint I had…even more than I'd used at Bill's wedding, seeing her in that blasted dress…to stop myself from kissing her like a madman…so instead, I gave her a weak, relieved smile and reached out for her, longing to feel her safely in my arms and to tell her that I lov…

_**THUD!**_

"Ouch! What the…Hermione!"

She was beating me, hitting me as hard as she could; she was punching my sides, stomach, chest…I flung out my arms to protect myself, utterly confused...

Shouts were echoing off the canvas walls…she was bellowing at me, but the impact of her blows and my general disorientation blocked her words. All I knew was that each punch was followed by a scream of rage, and then another punch…over and over, until...

"_Protego_!"

Sensing danger, Harry had cast the same Shield Charm Hermione had used that night on the riverbank. "Hermione!" he said, shocked. "Calm…"

"I WON'T CALM DOWN! DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO, HARRY POTTER! GIVE ME MY WAND! NOW! AND YOU!"

She lunged for me again, thwarted only by the invisible wall. Not to be deterred, she flung herself at it, scratching and punching, but to no avail. "I came running after you! I called you and begged you to come back!" I was unsure whether she was going to cry or attempt to curse me into a jelly…neither seemed too appealing, to be blunt.

"I know," I said softly, wanting nothing more than to tackle her to the ground and force her to listen to me. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm really…"

"You're _sorry?" _she gave a disbelieving laugh. "You come back after weeks…weeks…and you think it's all going to be all right if you just say _sorry_?"

Now I was mad as well. I knew good and well that I'd messed up, and I'd been living with that knowledge much longer than I would have preferred. I was trying to apologize…to explain…but she wouldn't have any of it. "What else can I say?" I shouted, feeling the familiar boiling of blood roaring in my ears.

"Rack your brains, Ron, that should only take you a couple of seconds!"

I couldn't afford to feel hurt, although I wanted to. I couldn't let my guard down. Harry leapt to my defense, but Hermione would hear nothing. "…Weeks and weeks, we could have been dead for all he knew!"

I winced, but otherwise held it back…there was no need to reveal to her that she had an eerie radar for all the thoughts that had attacked me like so many canaries… "I knew you weren't dead!" I cried furiously, forgetting momentarily about the Shield Charm as I stepped forward. "I knew I'd hear straight off if you were dead, you don't know what it's been like…"

"What it's been like for you?"

She had no idea. She believed that I'd been tucked safely away at home, getting fat and sleeping late, while she and Harry had been risking their lives. She didn't know that every waking moment…

_Every. Damned. Waking. Moment._

I had been terrified, praying to any god that would listen to lead me back to them. In my nightmares, I'd seen her dead. No blood…no struggle…just laying peacefully, her eyes blank and unseeing.

Harry had yet to crop up in these nightmares. I wondered if she'd understand if I told her that. If I could somehow tell her what I so desperately wanted to…_needed to…_without earning a sneer worthy of a Malfoy.

But now was not the time.

"I wanted to come back the minute I Disapparated! I walked right into a gang of Snatchers, and I couldn't…"

"A gang of what?" Harry interjected.

I sighed and resigned myself to explaining what had happened after I'd left them. I related the story of my false name, somewhat messy escape, and recent Splinching; I held up my fingers so they could see.

"Imagine losing fingernails, Harry!" Hermione burst out, to no one's surprise. "That really puts our suffering into perspective, doesn't it?"

The girl was bloody maddening, and she wouldn't listen to reason. She waved aside Harry's attempts to defend me, to explain to her what had happened in the forest. "One thing I want to know, though, is how you managed to find us? We'll have to make sure we're not visited by any one else we don't want to see."

Had I not been so sodding pissed off, I'd likely have broken down and cried. As it was, I wearily reached into my pocket and pulled out the Deluminator. "This."

She was looking at me know, seemingly confused and suspicious, so I took the break from yelling to explain how the small silver device had led me to two different locations. Hermione blushed slightly when I described hearing her voice, but otherwise gave no hopeful indication that she was ready to forgive me. Then I reached the part about the doe, and Harry joined in on the explanation. By the time he'd gone through the process of destroying the locket, Hermione had eased off her furious look and just appeared stunned.

"And it went? Just like that?"

Harry shrugged as he tossed it into her lap. "It screamed. That was it."

Hermione picked it up carefully...almost respectfully...and examined it. I was watching her so intently I barely heard Harry asking me a question. "Did you say you got away with a spare wand? Mine's broken."

"You're kidding!" I handed over the new wand, shaking my head in amazement. I was half-glad that I hadn't been around to witness to rampage I knew had followed. This thought, however, was snuffed out abruptly as Hermione got to her feet. I wanted to grab her and shake her, telling her that we had to get over it, that I was back and I was never leaving again...

But she spared no glance at me as she stored the Horcrux in her beaded bag and crawled back into bed.

I heaved a sigh as I went over to my own bunk and began unearthing my pajamas out of my knapsack.

"About the best you could hope for, I think."

"Yeah," I admitted. "Could've been worse. Remember those birds she set on me?"

There was a slight pause before her voice reached me from under her bedcovers. "I still haven't ruled it out."

I couldn't help it; tilting my head so Harry couldn't see, I smiled. All was not lost.

-----So who's ready for the final chapter? Let me hear a WOOT! I thought I could stretch it out to the end of the book, but there would be a lot of skipping around in the canon, and I don't like that. Speaking of which, I know this chapter dragged a bit towards the end, but that's just because I couldn't bring myself to skip steps. Thanks to all of you who review! Know that I keep a close eye on your work as well!


	7. Luxury of Time

Disclaimer: I own nothing except a pair of really cool orange socks. Sue me for them, and we shall fight to the death!_ Avada Kedavra! _

**A/N:** Wow…last chapter! Awesome, huh? Now we're in my own realm…what I feel should've happened in the tent! And I'd like to thank all of my reviewers high fives all of you and give a special thanks to **the-missing-arm-of-krum**, who was the first to holla at me with a WOOT! And to **Jaded Imagery**__who has a very keen eye when it comes to spotting genius songs.

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After the bitter sting of ice water and wind, stepping inside the tent was like being enveloped in a warm bath. Being away for so long had made me really appreciate the return…and although I knew I'd have a job on my hands getting back into Hermione's good graces, I'd deal with it. I had no other choice.

Things were started to die down after our rather hectic reunion; Harry, after tossing and turning in his bunk for the better part of an hour, admitted defeat and ambled off to sit just outside the flap, letting the biting cold air clear his head. He wasn't alone…none of us could sleep.

The only light in the tent apart from the bowl of dancing bluebell flames was the tip of Hermione's wand, which was moving rhythmically back and forth across the pages of a thick book. She was propped up against a stack of pillows, her lips moving involuntarily as she read with her nose an inch from the page.

It wasn't an unfamiliar sight, I mused, lying opposite her with my hands tucked behind my head. It was almost comforting…it felt normal. It felt as though we were in the Gryffindor common room, and she was tucked into her favorite armchair, studying. The fact that I was lying close by, watching her intently…that was awfully normal as well. Many times, I had been stretched out in the floor alongside the fire, enjoying her company, and she would raise her head, give me one of those amazing smiles, and say…

"Just what in the bloody hell are you looking at?"

Her sharp tone hurled me unpleasantly back into the present; I gave my head a slight shake to rid myself of the glorious image in my mind, and told her, quite calmly, "You."

She appeared slightly taken aback, but regained face quickly as she snapped, "I'm well aware of that, Ronald. Perhaps you need to find someone else to goggle at."

I shrugged. "If it bothers you," and I directed my gaze to the canvas ceiling, watching the dark shapes of snowflakes drifting over in the glare of the pale moon. I'm sure at any other time I would've found it quite entertaining. But now, not even Gwenog Jones herself could've torn my tangled thoughts away from Hermione…I hadn't seen her for what felt like forever, so if I wanted to look at her, damn it, I was going to do just that.

It was for this reason that I once again raised my eyes to her; with a jolt in my guts, I met her gaze…she had been staring at me, almost intently as I had her. I felt my breath lodge in my throat as I took in her expression; no longer was she glowering at me with a fiery anger. Her eyes were soft, pained, and confused…I'd have rather she used an Unforgivable on me, than to look at me like that.

"How could you?" she asked quietly, and the misery I heard made me want to throw myself back into that pond and drown, like I deserved.

I ducked my head, hating myself, not wanting to meet her gaze. "I don't know, Hermione," I mumbled. "I don't have an excuse. That damn locket was throwing me for loops, but I know I can't hide behind that…"

"I didn't ask you _why_ you left!" she snapped. And then her voice grew gentler. "I asked how could you?" there were tears in her eyes. "I came after you, begging. I ran round that whole stupid hilltop crying for you. And you…you just…" she broke off, trembling.

I couldn't stand it anymore. In one quick bound, I crossed the tent and eased myself down on the side of her bed. As I slipped my arms around her and pulled her to my chest, I half-expected her to punch me…sort of hoped she would, I suppose…but to my surprise and relief, she merely quivered against my shoulder, holding in her sobs.

"After you promised that nothing would h-happen to me or Harry, y-you just left!" she stuttered. I felt an uncomfortable swooping sensation in my chest, as my brain unwillingly focused on that day at the Burrow as she cried over her parents…

"I know I did," I whispered, feeling my own eyes stinging and willing myself not to break down in front of her. "And I hated myself every blasted day I was gone. When I saw you tonight…" I let the sentence die away, fearing I was coming dangerously close to revealing the secret I'd worked so hard to keep. But she was looking at me, a question hovering in her warm brown eyes, and I had no choice but to continue. "When I saw you, it was like waking up from a horrible dream. Like I'd been sleepwalking. Which, I guess I have," I admitted, tearing my gaze away from hers. "I'd been thinking some pretty horrible things when I was gone…wanting to know you were okay, but scared to really find out."

She was staring at me, mouth slightly agape. "Well…I suppose for the emotional range of a teaspoon, that's not too bad."

It was a mark of how turned around the whole world had become, when Hermione tried to lighten the mood with a joke. But I'd waited too long to get this off my chest, and I wasn't stopping now. "Every second that I didn't know what was happening was like a Bludger to the face," I told her quietly, twirling a finger around her chestnut curls. "But I'm back now, and Merlin knows I'll not be leaving anytime soon. Not for Horcruxes or swords or…"

"But you _did _leave, Ron!" she exclaimed, tugging away from my embrace…and at the same time breaking my heart. Her eyes were narrow and accusing, a far cry from the gentleness I'd seen just a few moments before. "You _did _leave, and even though you came back, you can't expect me to forgive you just like that…"

"Yes, I do!" I told her forcefully, grabbing her shoulders. "You have to forgive me for this now, Hermione!"

"WHY?" she screamed.

"You said it yourself!" I bellowed back. Her eyes widened in confusion. "You said it last summer, at the Burrow. We don't have the luxury of time anymore! Anything could happen! If the right Death Eaters found us, we could be dead before we could get to a wand! And I'm not going to die knowing you're upset with me!"

She gave a little gasp, and then began to cry in earnest. I sat there for a solid minute, marveling at myself. _Weasley, you a git if there ever was one. _Not able to put it off any longer, I once again wrapped my arms around her and whispered, "Blimey Hermione, I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just can't…"

"No! No, don't a-apologize," she sat back, careful to stay within in my grasp, and wiped at her eyes. "You're right…you're completely right, Ron. We c-can't afford to f-fight like this, and I know h-how much it had to hurt you to leave…"

I was utterly shocked. No amount of preparation would have prepared me for this. I always knew the girl was bloody brilliant, but she'd outdone herself. Relieved, though still disgusted with myself, I began slowly stroking her hair, reveling in the feel of it. "It did, but I still shouldn't have done it. And I know I hurt you as well…"

She leaned against my shoulder, her breath tickling my ear. "It's just that, after…after losing Dumbledore, and sending Mum and Dad off to Australia, and then having to leave Ginny and your family…I was losing everyone, and then when you left, it just hit me and…"

Her words faded into silence as she took a moment to gather herself; I, on the other hand, now had such a grip on her neck I'm surprised it wasn't painful.

"…and it hit me that I didn't have anyone left. I was losing everyone I loved, and then you were gone…and Merlin knows I love you more than anything…"

At that moment, somewhere off in the world, wizards and Muggles alike were falling to their deaths at the hands of Death Eaters. Students at Hogwarts were being tortured…for all I know, maybe some of them were dying. But all that seemed to disappear in a whirl of smoke and color, dissolving into nothingness as her words echoed inside my brain like tolling church bells.

But unfortunately, I'm a Weasley: slow at the starting line, a bit thick, and daft to the point of it being a problem. So I acted like any Weasley man would.

"You…er…you lov…_what_?"

"Oh Ron, surely you're not _that _thick?" she said disapprovingly, wiping the last traces of tears from her eyes. "After all, you're the one who picked up on Harry's feelings for Ginny...so I knew you weren't completely oblivious…"

Well in my defense, she'd kept it hidden pretty bloody well.

"But I thought…I reckon I always thought you'd fancied Harry," I mumbled, feeling a blush working its way into my neck.

I could feel her eyes on me. "Me?" she asked in disbelief. "Fancy _Harry? _Ginny would murder me!" she reached out and slid her fingers under my chin, forcing me to look at her. I almost lost my head at her soft touch. "When have I _ever _given off any impression that I fancy Harry? Over you, at that?"

"Well, you two never fight…never have any of those blazing rows we have. You always just seem so comfortable with each other…and with us, sometimes you could cut the tension with a knife!"

"Thank you for proving my point."

I sat there on the edge of her bed, my fingers still intertwined in her soft hair, thinking. If she was telling me the truth…and I'd never known her to lie to me…and I understood her correctly…well that meant…"So let me get this straight. If I'd just out and told you what I wanted to at the Burrow…"

"Which was?"

"Merlin's beards, Hermione," I leaned forward so that my forehead touched hers. "You know I love you. More than anything. Even more than Chocolate Frogs or Quidditch."

She blushed pink, realizing how serious I was being.

"…So if I'd up and told you last summer…then we would be…?"

"Oh, I daresay we'd be in the exact same position we are now," she told me matter-of-factly. "I doubt any amount of persuasion on my part would've stopped you once you'd got it into your head to leave…"

"That's where you're wrong," I told her softly, running my fingers out of her hair and along her shoulder blades…drowning in the sensation that the overwhelming love I'd felt for so long was mutual. It was quite a feeling. "I suppose one of the main reasons I left was that I thought you were…choosing Harry," I ended in a mutter, ashamed of the truth. When I realized she hadn't answered me, I looked up fearfully.

She was smiling at me, although she appeared very sad. "Oh, Ron…Harry needed us. Both of us…and when you left, he needed me. Just like I needed…just like I need you. Although perhaps not for quite the same reasons," she added, making me grin. "And like I said, I know how hard it must've been for you to leave us…but there's no reason to dwell on it any longer."

"But I did," I repeated ruefully. "And of course I'm going to dwell on it, Hermione; you act like you don't know me…"

Anything else I meant to say was cut off quickly; Hermione head tucked her hand firmly behind my neck, and the next second she was kissing me, kissing me like no one ever had…not even Lavender. It was passionate, and yet gentle at the same time. Only one of her many strengths, I suppose. I raised my hands to her face and responded eagerly, focusing all the anger and relief I'd felt in the last few months into kissing her…

Then she drew back and whispered "Don't dwell on it," sincerely into my ear.

"Dwell on what?" I breathed, struggling to capture her mouth again.

"Oh, Ron," she laughed, pulling back and swatting me on the head. "Pull yourself together."

"No."

She chuckled again, bringing her head down to rest on my shoulder. "Oh…and we can't let Harry know…"

"Harry knows. Trust me," I assured her, remembering the words Harry had told me as I sat rocking on my knees in the forest.

"I suppose you're right…but we can't flaunt it in front of him…"

I gently pushed her back down on the bed and lay down next to her. "I understand why you wouldn't want to flaunt me in front of him," I told her seriously, pulling her into a tight hug. "Making him jealous for taking me away and all that…" she snickered into my shoulder. "But is there another reason?"

"How do you think it would make him feel, seeing us together all the time when Ginny's so far away?" her voice was low with tiredness and sadness.

"Blimey…you're right. All right, I'll behave…I'll try, anyway."

Her laugh was like music, and she buried her face in my maroon Weasley pajamas, one hand raking across my shoulder. I rested my head against her delicious-scented hair…trying to let it all sink in…

"Made up then, have you?"

I gave a start of surprise and looked up to see Harry's amused face grinning down at us. So much for keeping it from him…but he couldn't have look more pleased with himself. Maybe he assumed he was responsible.

"Well, we are in the middle of war, mate. No reason to be losing our heads over every little row."

Harry snorted as he climbed into his bunk. I could feel Hermione shaking with silent giggles, and had just reached over to give her a quieting nibble on the ear when…

"_Protego_!"

The two of us were blasted apart as Harry's Shield Charm erupting between us. Now both of them were roaring with laughter, and it was with a defeated attitude that I clambered out of her bed. "Really need to work on your timing there, mate," I told him darkly as I climbed into my own bunk.

He sniggered. "Get the lights, will you Ron?"

Mocking him silently, I removed the silvery Deluminator from the depths of my pocket and clicked it. Expectedly, the small swirls of bluebell flames soared gracefully inside…and in the ghost of the dancing indigo light, I could swear I saw a pair of twinkling blue eyes beaming at me, and in the faint _whoosh_ of wind that crept whispering into the tent, I heard the echo of a kind old man's wise chuckle.

Dumbledore had known all along that I'd want to come back to her…come back to them. And of course…as it always had been, and always should be…

Dumbledore had been right.

--End--

----So what did you think? I'm anxiously awaiting reviews! And you haven't heard the last of me…a new fic starring Snape/Lily is in the works! Thanks again to all my reviewers!

(T.S.E.)


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